


Brittle

by Breyito



Series: 2020 Geraskier Week [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Sad Jaskier | Dandelion, sorry - Freeform, sorry I couldn't help it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22841197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breyito/pseuds/Breyito
Summary: Post- Ep. 6Jaskier is on his way to being mostly allright, when an unexpected meeting with Geralt tears all his efforts apart.2020 Geraskier Week: Day 4-Hurt/Comfort
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: 2020 Geraskier Week [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635739
Comments: 13
Kudos: 254





	Brittle

**Author's Note:**

> I chose Hurt...ooops? ñ.ñ  
> I couldn't help it!!! I just love Jaskier and his angsty-potential!!! Tbh, I've read some amazing post-ep.6 fix-it fics, but I'm of the opinion that some things you just don't forgive; at least not without effort from the other part. Hence, this was born.  
> I knoooow that Geraskier Week is ending, but RL is a bitch and writing (even if I've written more this week than the past semester, jeez) is hard. I plan to finish all the prompts, even if it takes me another week lol. Tho I'm having a hard time to come up with ideas for the last two days, so...help??  
> Enjoy the pain!!

When they find the bard, he is singing in a small tavern. This far North the Nilfgaard army has not being able to reach, yet; but refugees have been traveling and passing through, and it is noticeable. The place is fairly full, the ambient warm from the fire on the hearth and the ammount of bodies. 

The mood of the people, though, is solemn and gloom. The usual joyful tunes and bawdy lyrics that make most of Jaskier's songs would not be welcome; but his most recent works, full of longing and despair are listened to with the aumost attention; people eager to feel conected in their grief. 

_~I need time to replace, what I gave away~_

He is singing with his eyes closed, the melody pouring out of him without effort; and he does not see them enter: the sorceress, the princess and the two Witchers. 

_~Though I try to resist I still want it all_ ~

The four of them sit in a corner, willing to wait until the performance is over; but the white haired witcher does not take his eyes away from the bard for a second.

_~I see a little house on the beach and children's names_

_I see quiet nights poured over ice and the sweetest ale~_

Geralt tries really hard not to think that the song is about him, because surely it can't be. Neither of them are built for a quiet life and a settled home; and yet he can't stop hearing the hopeful proposal of _'lets go to the coast for a while'_ that he never responded to, which was on itself an answer of its own.

_~But everything is shattering and it's my mistake~_

Vesemir notices the moment the lark sees Geralt, because his body fills with tension, his shoulders go back and his eyes fill with something else: anger, pain, hurt. He feels the sharp inhale Geralt takes of the man’s souring scent, and hears the aborted whine that climbs up his troath. 

_~Only fools fall for you, only fools_

_Only fools do what I do, only fools fall~_

The sorceress thinks to herself that there is no way the dumb Witcher can miss the song being about him. The bard is practically singing it _to_ him, not looking away once. The rest of the place might not notice, but the four of them on the table know. Even without the enhanced senses she thinks she can smell the betrayal and the hurt the bard pours out in every exhale. She did not know things were so dire between the two men, or she would have insisted on Geralt aproaching first, with an apology at the ready; instead of ambushing him to ask such a big favour.

_~Only fools fall…~_

As soon as the song finishes the bard jumps into action; throwing the few coins in the floor into his lute case and sprinting for the back door. 

Obviously, they follow. Or, Yennefer and Geralt do, leaving Ciri with Vesimir inside, to protect her.

~*~

Jaskier has never believed the saying that Witchers have no emotions; that they can't feel and only care for killing and coin.

Because if that were true, then why would they help?why would they risk their own lives for the ungrateful little beings that humans are? They are hated, spat on, cursed, stoned...and yet they continue to travel seeking for monsters to kill and people to save.

Surely it would be easier to just take whatever they want, instead of getting barely what they need? They could stop traveling, live in the woods or the mountains, hunt and plant and live quietly; until people grew desperate enough to seek them out and pay whatever amount they demand for killing whatever creature is tormenting the pesky little humans.

Or become bandits, roaming the roads and stealing and killing as much as they want. It's not a big secret (just something people like to forget) that they can control the minds of people with their magic (similar to the way mages can, but they don't, not usually). They could take over a city, a kindom. They could do so many things; things that would turn them into the monsters people already treat them as. 

But they don't. They just keep picking themselves up after a badly payed hunt, a stoning, a beating for just exhisting; and they go back to the Path. 

So no, Jaskier has never believed the rumours about Witchers not having feelings. Traveling with Geralt only proved him right. 

But right now he wishes it were true.

Because if the lack of emotional conexions was something biological, something they did to Witchers on those cursed Trials; if love and care and affection was something they *forced* them to erase, this would be easier. It would mean Geralt doesnt care for him because he literally _can't_.

But knowing he has such a bottomless heart; that he cares, so deeply; having seen first hand how far his affection goes...and yet _know_ none of it is directed to him? Know that he's just an annoyance, a passing amusement, some silly human the man took pity in? That's torture.

Jaskier doesnt know what to _do_ now. What do you do when you realize (when someone literally has to spit it to your face because you just won't _get it_ ) that the person you built your life around despises you? How do you keep moving on, when you have linked yourself (your sense of being, your sense of worth) so fully to another being and that other is no longer there? When you have spent more of your life by their side than alone?

How do you manage without them?

Somehow, he endures. 

It takes time, and acting skills, and ale and some new-found interest in weapons and fighting to release all that _anger_ coursing through him; but he copes. He stills feels brittle, like all his pieces were put in the right order but not glued back together, and a minimal shift can break him apart again. There’s nothing to do about the pain, not really; just wait for it to dull until it’s an ache and not searing pain (like the throb you feel in a broken ankle when it’s going to rain years after it happened; not the excruciating pain of the exposed bone through ruptured flesh). He’s not there yet; but he feels like he could be, in a few more months (or years, being realistic, but realism has never been his strong suit, has it?).

There’s a war going on, after all, and he can’t give himself the luxury of _pining_ when people are being killied left and right. He stops singing about White Wolves and monsters; because Princess Cirilla is still unacounted for, and people are starting to remember (after years of a heavy silence imposed by Calanthe) that Geralt of Rivia was to claim her by the Law of Surprise. He has made a name for himself and the last thing he wants it’s to be taken hostage on the missguided notion that Geralt would give a rat’s ass about him and come to his rescue. He is not that stupid. 

So he crafts another identity, another name and life and repertoire (he’s lucky that enough songs from Jaskier are being sung by other minstrels, so he doesn’t runs out of ballads and dittys while he composes new material), changes his image to _fit in_ rather than _stand out_ (more earthy colors with minimal embellishments, embroidered by his own hand), grows a beard (still carefully maintained) and lets his hair reach his shoulders. He sings more about longing and loses, homesickness and heartbreak; but still tries to end the performances on a high note, a cheerful tune (people respond better, when they can sing their woes but still feel hope at the end of another dark day). 

Or at least that is what he usually does. It only takes Geralt to show up _once_ for all his careful work to come tumbling down. He can feel his grief start to choke him and barely manages to finish the song (and of course it’s about Geralt, because all his songs about heartbreak are about him) before he’s gathering his things in a hurry and running for the door. He just wants to get to his room at the inn before he starts to unravell. Of course he doesn’t _get to_ , because the damn Witcher and the fucking witch follow him and cut him off.

“Jaskier.”

“That’s not my name.” he answers in a lower registry. It’s useless, he knows, but he still tries to side step and continue on his way. A hand grabs his forearm and the strenght behind it stops him short. He can feel the heat of his palm _scorching_ his flesh even under all those layers and he starts to shake.

“Jaskier.”

“What? I’m on my way to the inn, I’ll be gone by morning. You-”

“Jaskier”

“-don’t have to see me or talk to me-”

“ _Jaskie-_ ”

“-or even acknowledge me so-”

“Jaskier!”

“-what do you _want_ !?” he screams, and his voice carries into the darkness around them. “What could you possibly want from a _shit-shoveling useless minstrel_ , uh!?” 

He can tell that both the Witcher and the sorceress are shocked by his outburst; and he takes advantage of this by shaking the hand off and walking a few more feet away from them. 

“Jaskier. We need you.” Is what he hears next, and the words make him stop. He lets loose a bitter short laugh.

“Oh, haven’t you heard, woman, that he doesn’t _need_ anyone?” he hears steps behind him and continues walking, “And I wouldn’t go depending on him very much either. He tends to _bite_ and run the other way when that happens, you know?” The Witcher gets ahead of him and grabs his shoulders, thightly and pushes him against a wall.

“Don’t do that.” he growls, shaking him, impatient. “She’s done nothing to-”

"How is it, Geralt” Jaskier interrumpts, finally looking into Geralt’s eyes “that you go out of your way to respect, protect, _love_ ” he spats the word out _“_ people that curse your name, spit on you, wish you dead and use you so _badly_ that you have nothing left when they are done with you;” he doesn’t even try to pretend the words aren’t about certain witch that has apparently deemed the Witcher’s company good enough again, he sees her flinch at the quick look he shots her but pays it no mind “but show nothing but disgust towards the _one_ person who has always stood by you?" he sees the way Geralt recoils at that, but honestly, if he can lash out when he feels hurt then he deserves to hear the pain he caused others.

"Jas-"

"What did I had to do; what did I had to change; what else did I had to sacrifice for you to give me a _sliver_ of your affection?” He can’t hold his gaze anymore and just looks over his shoulder, tears escaping uninvited. “Just a morsel, a fucking _crumb_ of yourself?" His voice breaks and _fuck_ , he wanted to finish this conversation with the last dregs of his dignity intact, but he doesn’t even get that, does he?

"Jaskier, I'm so-" despite the fact that Jaskier has spent the last fucking year wanting to hear an apology from the man that destroyed his heart; right now he can’t. He suddenly feels so _tired_. Brittle, like that single word could make him crumble and disperse his very core to the winds. He swallows a moan and starts begging.

"Please, leave." he pauses, to see if the other man will, for once, heed his request. He doesn’t, of course. " Geralt, _please, leave_ ." he pleads. The Witcher lets go of his shoulders, but opens his mouth. But Jaskier won’t let him speak, not if he doesn’t want to end the night reduced to more pieces. "You are no _good_ to me witcher. You _wound_ me; it _hurts_ . Everytime I think of you a fucking _hole_ opens in my chest and threatens to consume whole.” he starts wheezing, but keeps talking, trying to explain his pain, to make him _understand_ how badly those scarred hands have wounded him. “ _Seeing_ you here... _Listening_ to your voice? It’s ripping me to pieces."

"Ja-" the bard feels like puppet whose string was cut. He falls to the floor in a crouch, hugging himself, trying to contain the void growing in his chest.

"Geralt, _have mercy_." he sobs, desperate. He hides his face between his knees, tears and snot being absorved by the dark fabric.

Finally, Geralt leaves. The keens and sobs of pain follow him all the way back to the tavern.

  
"Good gods, what have you _done_ to him, Witcher?" Vesemir asks when they return to the table. The piercing cries continue on in the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Mmm, are those reworked lyrics from Troye Sivan?? Yes, yes they are. I just love this song and I had to tweak the lyrics a bit so they fit better, but I love the result, tbh.  
> Thanks for reading!!!  
> Leave me a kudos, a comment (or both!) if you liked it!  
> Ideas for day 6 (destiny) and day 7 (free day) are accepted ;P
> 
> Kisses


End file.
